


you have suffered enough and warred with yourself (it's time that you won)

by butmomilovepeter



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Supernatural
Genre: Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, References to Supernatural (TV), Stabbing, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, yall remember when sam dies in season 2?? this is that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 12:26:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17345204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butmomilovepeter/pseuds/butmomilovepeter
Summary: It was supposed to be a fun camping trip. A gift from Mr.Stark. “Let’s go out to Massachusetts!” He said. “It’s always quiet and nice there! The leaves are so pretty!” He said.The leaves aren’t as pretty when you get dragged out of your campsite at two in the morning, with nothing on but beat up Converse, soccer pants, and the t-shirt Peter got when he went to see School of Rock on Broadway last month.~Basically, the scene from Supernatural 2x21 where Sam dies, but it's Peter and Tony.





	you have suffered enough and warred with yourself (it's time that you won)

**Author's Note:**

> aahhhahhahahaahhaahahha sorry lmao

Peter aches. 

_ (I could do it, and so easily too.) _

The man (who looked not that much older than himself, maybe his early twenties) that he had been battling with for the last two hours was out-cold, and he could see the sun  start to rise over one of the buildings in this old abandoned part of town. 

It was supposed to be a _fun_ camping trip. A gift from Mr.Stark. “Let’s go out to Massachusetts!” He said. “It’s always quiet and nice there! The leaves are so pretty!” He said.

The leaves aren’t as pretty when you get dragged out of your campsite at two in the morning, with nothing on but beat up Converse, soccer pants, and the t-shirt Peter got when he went to see  _ School of Rock  _ on Broadway last month. 

He really does ache. He thinks the dude might have been fighting him because he had been seen with Tony, but honestly? He didn’t really care the reason. He just wanted to go back to bed.

You would think it would have been easy to take the guy down, with the spider powers and all, but his limbs were tired and his brain still a little sluggish. Plus, the guy had a good plenty of brute himself. 

_ (“Why are you fighting me, man?” _

_ “Shut up!” ) _

And now, as the guy laid out cold, Peter could so easily keep him knocked out forever. 

_ (No, you’re not like that. Stop thinking like that.) _

Peter sighs and cradled his probably broken arm, making his way up the road. 

That’s when he hears it.

“Peter!” Mr. Stark’s voice booms across the storefronts and echoes off the windows. Peter feels himself relax, as he sees Tony exit his suit, Rhodey not far behind him. He looks relieved,  _ so  _ relieved. “Peter!” 

Peter smiles and lets his arms droop. Jesus, he’s so tired. The two men get closer with each step, he’s so close, he’s gonna take a nap-

Tony’s face is suddenly alarmed, too alarmed, and his spidey-senses don’t catch on in time. 

“Kid, look out!” 

There isn’t enough time. 

He feels the pain cut through him sharply. It flows from his back and it spreads, Christ, how it spreads, around his whole body. 

He falls to his knees sharply just as he sees Rhodey run past him, with Tony calling his name and meeting him at the ground. 

The static fades to black.

Black. 

 

~

Tony had been searching all morning, but somehow it was all worth it when he saw Peter again. 

A little battered. Bruised. Small looking his pajamas and looking exhausted. But whole and tangible. It’s good for a quick second when Peter calls his name. 

Then he sees the knife. 

“Kid, look out!” But he knows it’s too late. 

Peter gets stabbed right through his spine. His faces twists and his eyes bunch up with the pain, small, desperate grunts coming from his mouth. He falls to his knees with his arms open wide, and if Tony was a religious man, he’d say it almost looked like Peter was praying. He head bent in a final look towards the sky. 

“NO!” Tony didn’t know his voice could make a noise like that. Animalistic and protective. He’s running so goddamn fast, Rhodey running close by and past them towards the criminal.

They meet at the ground. 

Tony balls his fists into Peter’s collar, attempting to keep him upright. The kid’s eyes are all unfocused, glazed and rolled back. His mouth keeps opening and closing. 

“No, Peter.” Tony’s attempts fail as Peter slumps face first into his chest. “Woah, woah, woah, Peter, Peter!” The kid doesn’t respond, but the blood drips from his mouth onto Tony’s shoulder. 

“No, no. Hey, come here, kiddo.” His tone his light and playful, and he doesn’t know why. The pulls the kid back and forth. “Lemme look at you.”

He tucks him in chest to put a hand on the wound, grimacing at the blood that now stains his fingers. 

_ (No, no, no. Please no. It’s so bad oh my god.) _

He pushed Peter back up to attempt to face him. 

“It’s not even that bad! Look at me, kid, it’s not even that bad!” 

Peter’s head lolls, the blood covering the words  _ Stick It To The Man  _ on his shirt.

He jolts Peter more, shaking his hard enough he thinks it might rouse him. “Pete? Peter!”

There’s silence. 

“Me and Rhodey are gonna patch you up, you’ll be good as new, kiddo.” Tony puts on a smile. “I’ve gotta take care of my Spidey, don’t I? My amazing Spider-Man, huh? Pete?”

It’s as if there’s no bones in the boy at all. 

“I’m gonna take care of you, right? Cause that’s my job?” Tony cradles Peter’s face and pushes the hair out of it with one hand, the other keeping him up right. 

“Peter? Peter?” The eyes are closed. The blood stops gushing. “No, no, no, Pete? Petey?  _ Peter?!” _

_ (He’s not-- he’s  _ not _ ) _

He pulls the boy in as if to hug him, hoisting him up from underneath. 

Peter’s arms don’t return it. 

Stark’s don’t cry, they don’t, goddammit. 

“Peter… Peter!” He grips his curls from the back, cradling Peter Parker like the child he wished he had. 

**_“Peter!”_ **


End file.
